Lucifer Rising
by Loconut321
Summary: It all started on a shapeshifter hunt in Michigan. Now Sam believes that he is Lucifer. 2014!Sam (Originally written as a prompt on Tumblr)


Read until the end I _promise _it ends happily

#I am convinced that 2014!Sam/Lucifer isn't Lucifer at all #it's SAM #100% Sam #during this mental breakdown thing he has #he goes completely nuts#like Sam's relatively sane right now #but something happens and he goes really for real crazy #and he convinces everyone that he's okay and he leaves #then becomes addicted to demon blood again #and he goes so off the rails and becomes super powerful #and starts believing that he IS Lucifer #and he's so crazy and powerful by 2014 that he basically has the abilities of a God #or something

Sam had been a hunter for a long time. He had seen things that he would give a lot to forget. He jump-started the apocalypse. He spent intimate time in the cage with the Archangel Michael, the devil himself and Adam, the Winchester's half-brother. He left Dean for dead in Purgatory. He had the chance to slam the gates of Hell forever and failed.

All of the former really weigh down on a guy. Despite all of his downfalls, Sam had been fine.

It happened in Michigan of all places. Dean and Sam had caught the scent of a possible shapeshifter hunt in a town an hour south of Detroit. As per the usual Winchester way, Sam and Dean did their research and went in, guns blazing. That is when the hunt went hairy. The shapeshifter knocked Sam out, and dragged his unconscious body out of the warehouse; right under his older brother's nose. Dean searched in vain for his brother, but he was already long gone.

Sam woke up in an old, padded cell. The walls were a sickly greyish-yellow and the cloth was peeling away from the ceiling. The only connection to the outside world was a dark, metal door that Lucifer himself wouldn't have been able to claw through. The Winchester was well and truly trapped. He was not alone for long, however. Soon a tall man with light brown hair entered Sam's cell.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, overjoyed that he was about to be rescued.

"Sammy," Dean said, lip curling, "You defeat the devil; and now you can't even beat a shapeshifter?"

"Dean?" Sam asked, looking hurt.

Dean scoffed; the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Dean?" He mimicked, then continued in a mocking tone. "My older brother will save me!"

The taller Winchester's face hardened. "You're not Dean. I'll kill you!"

"Who cares what Dean thinks?" the fake-Dean chided as if Sam hadn't just threatened his life. "Do you always need big brother's approval?"

"Of course not, I-"

"_That_," the man said, flicking a hand at Sam, quieting the man, "is exactly what I wanted to hear. This is where we begin our lessons," it said with an evil smile, eyes flitting black. The demon pulled out a knife, stalking towards the Winchester dangerously. The weapon glinted sharply in the poor, flickering light. Sam backed up until he was against the wall. He was defenseless, but there was no way in Hell he would go down without a fight.

"What did you do to Dean?" He demanded.

"Don't be afraid," the demon cooed, "Dean is fine. I just want to give you a little taste. Like a little reminder of what you lost when your friend Castiel pulled your body out of Hell." Dean said softly, dragging the sharp edge of the knife against the skin of his wrist. The thick scent of the demon's blood soon filled the air. The hunter gagged.

"Shh," it cooed again, holding the wound up to Sam's mouth while flicking the other hand to hold the Winchester still.

"No!" Sam roared but it was too late. The blood slipped between his resistant lips and into his mouth.

The effect was immediate. Power surged through Sam's body; more powerful than it had ever been before. He felt strong. He felt invincible. The hunter pushed the monster away from himself, and Dean staggered backwards.

"I'm proud of you Sammy," the not-Dean smiled kindly. Sam could almost believe that it was actually him talking. "We'll pick this up tomorrow," his brother told him before backing out of the room casually.

The next day, the exact same occurred; with one simple variation. It was Jess. His girlfriend smiled kindly as she walked into the Winchester's cell; gliding over to where the hunter was situated. She patted him on the shoulder and reached up to peck his cheek. The exact same events as the day before soon followed. Jess slit her own arm and forced it upon the hunter. It would be a lie if Sam said that he was 100% opposed to the action. Once it was all said and done, she promised she would be back the next day. The hunter told himself he needed to stay strong for when Dean rescued him.

The next day it was Kevin. Kevin assured Sam that it was never his fault that Gadreel murdered him. Sam had to fight not to feel guilty about breaking Kevin's arm.

The next day it was Adam. The next, Jo. Then it was Castiel. Then it was Garth. Then it was his mother, Mary. Each day was a chip off of Sam's defenses. There were multiple times he looked forward to the next visit. Each time he caught himself thinking that, he remembered Dean.

This went on for three and a half months. Ellen brought him a cold beer one quiet day. Madison gave him her last cookie. Sam was even happy to see John, who had brought him the entire Sherlock Holmes series. Soon Sam forgot that each one was a demon. After all he had been through, he could afford to pretend, right? (As long as the blood still flowed then Sam could do just that.)

The next day it was Dean again. The real Dean. Soon he was being whisked away back to the bunker.

"Are you okay Sammy?" Dean asked his little brother in concern, while Castiel hovered silently in the background staring wistfully at the PB and J sandwich Dean was currently making.

Sam was staring at his wrist with an identical wistful look. He didn't seem to hear his brother.

"Sam?"

"I'm fine Dean," Sam said quietly.

It was apparent to Dean that Sam was _not_ fine about a week later. His brother was gone.

The call of the blood was stronger than it had ever been before. Between hiding from his brother and Castiel (which was a full-time job) the hunter was looking for demons. From dark alleyways to abandoned farmhouses, the rouge Winchester searched the country for hellspawn; drinking each and every one of them dry. He had never felt so powerful before. He had never felt so _alive. _Sam was starting to see what Lucifer had been trying to tell him all those years ago.

_No_, Sam thought one day. _Lucifer was weak. I am stronger than the devil himself._ The Winchester paused in his thought. _Actually… What better person to take up the role?_ Sam smiled to himself. _God has blessed me with strength better than Satan. __**I **__am Lucifer._

He even came to believe it.

So the younger brother kept roaming; kept killing. It escalated from just demons, to everything that stood in his way. He was the devil. They were weak. It was the natural order. He became cold and remote to anyone who came in contact with him. The hunter was stronger than them, he was _better_. In fact, Sam _was _better. He was stronger than he had ever been in his life. He was quicker. He was sharper. He was faster. In all terms of the word, Sam knew he was a _god._

_I am Lucifer._

Dean on the other hand kept searching. Somehow Sam was hidden from the angel's sight; and both were worried out of their minds. When they found the trail of bodies, Dean insisted it was possession. Cas was skeptical but stayed quiet.

They finally caught up to Sam during the warm, sunny August of 2014 in Detroit. It was storming that day.

A lone figure in a white suit was standing in a rose garden, back turned to his older brother. Ever so slowly the younger hunter turned to face the older. What Dean saw nearly stopped his heart.

"Oh. Hello Dean," Lucifer said measuredly before pausing to savor the moment. "What a surprise."


End file.
